


The Games We Play

by mari4212



Category: Road to El Dorado (2000)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 13:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mari4212/pseuds/mari4212
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The people we meet in bars can change our lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Games We Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caitirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitirin/gifts).



The bar was dank, noxious, and crowded with not-too-bright sailors. There were too few lanterns to properly illuminate anything, and the twiddlings of one blonde man on a mandolin were drowned out entirely by shouts for cheap wine and a particularly colorful drinking song. In other words, it was perfect. Tulio knew this bar -- or at least, he'd known dozens of its ilk, in the other, smaller, towns he'd encountered along the way. The barmen always sold the cheapest swill available and the sailors and soldiers drank it like there was no tomorrow while they played games ranging from _veintiuna_* to dicing.

In taverns like these, the men were easy pickings, drunk enough to bet and bet high, while at the same time too stupid to catch on to things like loaded dice or card counting. Even if they did catch on, they were usually drunk enough to be slow or awkward in a fight, long enough for him to get out intact.

Tulio sidled up to the table closest to the blond idiot with the mandolin, with the one empty seat facing him. He wasn't that bad with the instrument, really, and it was somewhat soothing to listen to, now that Tulio was close enough to hear it. The only disadvantage to the placement, Tulio thought, was having his back exposed to the rest of the room. The men at the table were already playing _vientiuna_. It wasn't the easiest of games to cheat at, unfortunately, and they already had a deck in play, so there was no way he could simply bring in his marked deck. Still, a game like this was probably better for the long term cheat. Loaded dice only worked for a few games in a row before people started getting suspicious. He'd been caught a few times too many recently, the reason why he'd had to leave the last town in a bit of a hurry.

The dicing winnings, however, made for a good first few bids. Tulio plopped down in the open chair, faked a broad grin, and deliberately slowed his speech down, until he sounded like a naïve country boy, new to the big city. An easy mark, in other words. He always felt a bit better about scamming people if they'd had a chance to scam him first; it was more fun to turn their idiocy against them. He deliberately fumbled through the first few rounds of play, holding when he should have hit, hitting when he should have held, and betting wildly out of proportion to what his card value really was, driving the others to build up the pot as well. The plan was simple: build up their expectations, then start winning, just slowly enough that they'd always think they were further ahead than they were, or that he was merely hitting a spell of beginner's luck. Then, when they were bidding as high as they could, win the last few rounds and hit the door running.

It was working well. The sailors had been a bit gruff when he'd sat down, but as he'd drawn them out and continued the losing streak, they'd broken out into their own devious grins, with the nearest two faking sympathetic comments and patting him on the shoulder when he lost the latest round. The only fly in the ointment was the blond man, still sitting near the table. He'd lost the stupid smile from earlier and was frowning now, his fingers slowing their strumming and occasionally missing a note. Tulio sighed exasperatedly, though he quickly modulated it with a hangdog expression for the others at the table, which only led to them increasing their falsely sympathetic gestures. The blond looked like he was one of those idealistic idiots who might jump into the game long enough to "save" the hapless novice and mess up all his carefully laid plans. Time to speed things up, then, even if he normally liked to draw out the stupid act a bit longer.

He'd been keeping a watch on the four other men at the table, looking for various tells about their hands. Only one of the men, the one directly opposite him, was any good at all about hiding what kind of hand he had. The others were ridiculously easy to see through. With this current round, he'd hit a decent hand, a score of twenty. The two obvious men had bad hands, he could tell. One had gone for an extra card, which, judging from the despairing look on his face, had obviously sent him over. The other had refused another card, but the dubious expression on his face pointed to a weak hand, probably in the upper teens. He glanced across the table at his main opponent, but again, the man's face was absolutely blank. Tulio was about to stop raising the bets and just call the cards, when a movement behind the table caught his eye. The blond man was nodding towards Tulio's opponent and mouthing something. Something that looked a whole lot like the word "nineteen". Well, this just made everything more interesting.

Mentally, Tulio upgraded the blond man from idiot to genius. This was brilliant, better than the plan. This was going to be a spectacular win, but he could still play it as being mere luck for a few more rounds following. He faked a worried grin, but increased his bet again. The idiot who'd gone over dropped out, but the other two called his bet and continued to raise. Finally, he couldn't pull the other two any higher, and they laid down their cards. Still faking the naïve country bumpkin, he asked, "Did I win, then?"

The others grumbled, but pushed the pile of winnings his way. For several rounds following, it all played out the same way, the blond man mouthing off the one man's cards while Tulio bluffed and judged the others. After the third straight win, the blond's smile had grown, and a mischievous sparkle had lit his eyes. He'd caught Tulio's con and seemed to be enjoying it. As for Tulio, he was about ready to propose marriage to the blond. He'd never wanted a partner, never trusted anyone else with his back, but this guy was fantastic. They were clicking already, he could tell, like a duet. No wonder all the great cons were pulled off by partners.

It was then, when he'd started to get comfortable, that it all fell apart. He could have kicked himself, because, really, what was rule one? _It can always get worse._ The man on his left had run out of money and dropped out of the game two turns ago, but he'd stayed at the table. And stupidly, Tulio had forgotten that someone else could notice the blond man. It was incredibly stupid, in fact, because the blond man did not do subtle at all. His face was animated, his body language shouted at the top of its figurative lungs, and he didn't look like he had a clue about how to stop himself while he was ahead. And Tulio had just let himself get carried away with the blond's actions, so enthusiastic about having a partner in the con and the chance to make out with so much more money than he normally would have.

And that's why he didn't notice it when the man on his left caught sight of the blond. He did notice it when the man jumped out of his chair and yelled, "He's cheating!" at the top of his lungs. Unfortunately, so did everyone else in the tavern.

Well, there was only one way to salvage this. Too bad it meant dumping the blond guy into the worst of it, but in the end, Tulio always went his own self-interest above anyone else's. That was how the world worked. The The blond would have to learn that somehow, if he hadn't already figured it out for himself. "Cheating!" he shouted, then turned towards the blond man. "You made me cheat these fine gentlemen? You, you, you dastardly fiend! How dare you make me into your pawn?"

For a moment, the blond looked stunned, like he couldn't imagine why Tulio would turn on him. Then his eyes seemed to light up, and his posture changed as he leaned slightly forward, crossed his arms, and bounced back a retort, "What! I, force you to cheat? How dare you, sir! I was merely going about my business when you begged me to help you. You, my friend, are the real cheat."

Oh, this was good. The energy in the room was shifting as the conversation went on. The men at other tables were relaxing, settling back to watch a show, not gearing up to fight… or to punish the accused cheater. Which, from Tulio's perspective as said cheat, was fantastic. Now to drum up the tension, he stepped forward. "I am insulted, musician. What right have you to push into our game with your absurd accusations of cheating? I demand satisfaction."

The blond huffed angrily for a moment, then slammed his hands onto the table. "Satisfaction! How dare you ask me for satisfaction, as though you were the innocent in this affair? You should be giving satisfaction to me!"

The rest of the tavern was eating it up and Tulio could tell that they had a good thing going here. The others hadn't even noticed when he started to slide the money still on the table into his empty pockets. If they pulled this off right, he might even get out of here without any more bruises.

One of the brighter-looking men in the tavern looked down at the near-empty table, then looked up, like he was about to say something about the vanishing money. So Tulio shoved at the table, knocking it down and out of the way as he stepped closer to the blond. He winced internally at the thought of the remaining coins dropping on the floor. He'd never get those back in a place like this, not with the men that came to this sort of bar.

But it did serve the intended purpose of shutting up the annoyingly observant man before he said anything. Tulio now stood barely a foot in front of the blond. "Well," he said, "where is this satisfaction you are demanding? Surely you're not afraid that I shall defeat you? Unless, of course, you know you lie." It was a bad line, a poor response to the blond's earlier comments, but it did the job. The blond leapt at him, grabbing his shoulders.

"You will taste your own lies as I slowly feed them to you," the blond retorted. And it felt natural as they began to wrestle, a dance they were doing, kicking out at chairs and knocking into tables, then rolling across the floor, shouting insults at one another the entire time. Finally, they were at the exit, and with a move more graceful than he'd felt himself capable of before, Tulio somersaulted the two of them out the open doorway and into the street.

They rolled out of eyesight quickly, landing in the nearby alley, laughing their heads off. "Did you see them?" asked the blond, finally, leaning his head back against a wall. "When you shoved the table over, that one man's jaw dropped so low I thought it would fall off."

Tulio raised a brow, "I was too distracted by the idiot next to us shrieking like a girl when you lunged at me."

The blond snickered some more, before turning with a grin and an outstretched hand, "Hi, I'm Miguel."

Oh, right. They hadn't met each other before. Strange how he had forgotten in the midst of everything; it was like he'd known the man all his life. He gripped Miguel's hand with one of his own and gave a one-word response, "Tulio."

*Spanish term for the game Americans call blackjack. Cervantes mentions it in Don Quixote, which brings it close to period for El Dorado. More so than poker, anyway.


End file.
